I step around a cactus. “Ask away.”
“Really? Okay, um…” she glances out at the desert. “Do you have any tattoos or piercings?”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Possibly.”
“Possibly?” Her head flips in my direction. “You can’t just leave me hanging like that.”
I don’t respond.
“Trenton Liam Bentley, I must know.”
I roll my eyes at her dramatics. “Fine.” I kick up a rock. Then another one. The second one sends sand into my shoe.
“Well?” she hedges.
“I have one tattoo.”
“Seriously?” She stops walking to gape at me. Why is she doing that? Does she not think me capable of getting a tattoo after Lennox’s prank?
“Can I see it?” She claps her hands together with the kind of joy only a child could replicate. The exit is coming up, after that, we still have half a mile to walk, but sure, let’s stop and show her my tattoo.
I roll up my sleeve and turn my arm out, revealing one of the more embarrassing mistakes of my life. The intent was good, the execution, well, it never should have happened.
“L. I. A.? What does that mean?” Her eyes widen. “Ooh, please say it was an old girlfriend.”
“I wish.” I drop my sleeve. Her eyes sparkle as she waits for the story. It’s going to be a dud, though. “You remember when Lennox almost made us get tattoos because she was sick of us making bets?”
“How could I forget? That was the highlight of my Christmas. My mom promised she’d be around when I came home that year, but I wound up at an empty apartment because her recent fling had flown her to Cancun for the holiday.” Her nose scrunches and she plays with her bracelet. “I thought of you guys a lot that Christmas.” She pulls out the hair tie and shakes her hair free. “Anyway.”
Another comment about her mom. When it’s my turn to ask questions, that’s where I’m starting.
“Anyway… we made another bet at her wedding. It was more of a joke, though.”Kind of.“When she found out, she was livid. She told us we’d all have to get her daughter’s name tattooed on our arm if we ever wanted to meet our niece.”
“Savage,” Karli says, her eyes wide in appreciation. “Wait, didn’t she have a boy?”
“Yup. Mix-up at the ultrasound. And she didn’t even have the decency to keep the initials the same, so now I have this. And no good reason for it.”
She nudges my side. “Just that you’re a good brother.”
I squirm. “Sometimes.” Right now, I’m not. My brother probably thinks I hate him, which I never could. But I can’t seem to tell him that because I’m stuck in my head. Stuck in whatIwant, whatIneed. Is that selfish?
“So, what are you going to do?” Karli asks, poking my arm.
“I don’t know. Sean covered his up the next day. So did Michael. But I was…” How do I say ‘scared of going back under a needle’ without sounding like a huge baby? The entirety of the tattoo is barely an inch in length, but I nearly cried with every tiny poke.
“A pansy?” Karli supplies.
I should have stuck with mine. “I guess so.”
“Don’t be ashamed.” She rubs my bicep, I have a hunch she doesn’t want to let go. “You’re delicate, like a flower.”
“The compliment every man longs to hear.” I unintentionally flex. Okay, it was very intentional.
“Here.” She turns and lifts her hair off her neck. “Since you were so brave, I’ll show you one of mine.”
Oneof hers? How many does she have? I swallow. This seems like very important information, and I would like the answersnow.
She pulls the back of her shirt down a touch, enough for me to make out the three little butterflies dotting her skin. My fingers find the black ink by themselves.
